Kemar
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Eddie always took his anger out on the wrong person. Buck knew this. Knew it like he knew the palm of his hand, his own flesh and blood. Still, it didn’t help convince himself that he didn’t deserve the anger that Eddie spat out at him. But that wasn’t important, because from here on out he would be the model best friend. Doing only what Eddie asked and nothing more. Clearly he had been doing something wrong for the last however many years if—
No one will fight for my son has hard as you do
Turned into
I don’t like it any more than you do, but if you’re going to make this about me having to choose between you or my son…you’re going to lose every time.
(Also known as I watched 8x09 it made me sad so I needed to make it more sad. But Eddie still leaves. Buck spirals.)
Now with part 2- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,155
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Collections:
- 1
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- 16
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- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by Kemar
28 Feb 2026
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“What—you’re joking, right?” Taylor asked, laughing. Her teeth flashed white in the dim light of the street lamps outside. “Why would you bring me to Eddie’s house?”
Buck flushed cold, then hot. “It’s—uh, it’s not. Anymore.” She looked at him steadily, waiting, and he clenched his hands around the steering wheel once before pulling the keys from the ignition. “I moved in when he moved back to Texas.”
Her jaw dropped, red hair falling into her face as she leaned forward. “....You what?”
“I just—” Buck hated that he was suddenly defensive, or embarrassed, or whatever tight, hot emotion surged under his skin. He opened his car door so he didn’t have to look at her. “Do you want to come in or not?” He asked, exasperated, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Well. Now I feel like I have to.”or, an 8x09 coda,
because that episode was insane and Taylor is the only one blunt and disconnected enough to call out these freaksBookmarked by Kemar
28 Feb 2026
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For as long as he could remember, Buck's favorite color has been blue.
The color of his bedding in his childhood bedroom was blue, complete with matching blue curtains to block out the sun that shone through his east-facing window in the mornings. He couldn’t even remember picking them out, they had been a part of him for as long as he lived in the Pennsylvania home.
Even his walls were painted a light blue complimentary of his bedding. Apparently his parents had painted it when he was little. It was one of the nicest things they had ever done for him.
The point was: blue had always been Buck’s favorite color.
So when he and Maddie were out to lunch and she offhandedly mentioned how much Daniel used to love the color blue, it absolutely floored him.
Or: Buck’s journey to find a color to call his own
Or or: A character study where Buck crashes out for 4700 words about colors
Bookmarked by Kemar
26 Feb 2026
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Buck doesn't want to make other people's problems and trauma about him. But he is involved on some level. And it would be nice if just once in a while people dug a little deeper and checked on how he's doing.
Only the more things change, the less that happens. Promises are broken, and it all makes Buck doubt himself and his place. Is he really anything more than a placeholder in people's lives?
Bookmarked by Kemar
26 Feb 2026
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Buck laughed, but his heart ticked with familiar, ridiculous nerves as Eddie tapped the folder against his palm. When Eddie looked that delighted to share something, it was usually about Chris. And when it was about Chris, it was usually about Eddie by extension—some beautifully earnest essay about bravery or soldiers, or an art project where ‘Dad’ had been rendered with heroic proportions and Buck as the guy in the corner with a goofy smile.
It was fine. It was more than fine. Buck had worked his way from the periphery of this picture, frame by frame, until he stood inside it; he could be the guy in the corner, smiling. He could be the second mention. He could be extra.
Still, the old echo stirred: not necessary. Replaceable.
Or, Chris writes an essay in class about his hero. It isn't who Buck expects.
Bookmarked by Kemar
25 Feb 2026